


Beings Without Sentience

by Cruiser



Category: Black Rock Shooter - All Media Types
Genre: AU where Mato never comes back from the Other World, Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruiser/pseuds/Cruiser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things Yomi can't remember, things that no one really can. Perhaps it was because of that girl, Kuroi Mato, who disappeared one day in middle school...but that can't be the reason why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beings Without Sentience

Yomi forgot a lot of things. Her memory was a fuzzy thing, really - middle school happened in a flash, a blur. The only thing she remembered was that...there had been a death, or something of the sort - well, perhaps not a death, but a girl had gone missing; a girl that not too many people remembered too well, other than her name, strange and mysterious, foreign to the tongue.  


_Kuroi Mato_

Sometimes, Yomi felt as though her heart was pressed up tight against her chest whenever she thought the name, though why, she could not tell. Mato Kuroi. Kuroi Mato. The name was like an ever-present, haunting ghost, whispering in her mind. There had been _something,_ but what, Yomi could not remember. Something important, her mind told her, but middle school was a long time ago, and Yomi was grown up now. She had recently graduated from college, and was for the moment living in a small apartment in Tokyo with another girl named Yamada Hikari, and they got along well enough. They didn't see each other much, and an amicable indifference had grown between them.

Of course, Yomi had money - she came from a wealthy family - but she didn't want to rely on her parents for the rest of her life, so she paid her own rent and took up various, transitory jobs, passing from it like a ghost.

Like a ghost, her mind chuckled. How fitting of her name. It was like she was dead. As though some part of her had been cut off, quickly and neatly. Hikari had told her one day, when she was tipsy, fingers clasped tight around a white mug of hot chocolate, that she thought Yomi was strange.

"You don't say much," Hikari had said. "It's like you're not really part of life, you know?" Then she laughed, and apologized, though Yomi could tell that she truly meant what she said, no matter how many times Hikari repeated the phrase "just kidding." There was always a grain of truth in those "just kidding"s, Yomi felt.

A middle school reunion was arranged for a weekend in June, and Yomi, having nothing else to do, went. When she arrived she was surprised by how little she remembered of everyone, save Kagari, but that was only because Kagari lived across from her on the street.

But Yomi hadn't spoken to Kagari in years, and a steady awkwardness had built up between them. For some reason, Kagari was linked, subtly, but there, to Kuroi Mato, the girl who disappeared so many years ago, and Yomi instinctively avoided that topic. She didn't know why, but she did.

At the reunion, she smiled as a cheerful Arata greeted her, her hair grown somewhat, wearing trendy-looking, yet athletic clothes. She still played basketball, but as a hobby. She was single, but had no interest in such things. When asked about any former crushes, her smile faltered and a troubled expression would slip across her face, fast but not fast enough to not catch.

"Funny," Arata would say, after a bit of waiting. "I don't remember ever having a crush on anyone. Weird, right? Well, I guess I just haven't met the right guy yet." She laughed, though it sounded forced. "You should talk to Kagari," Arata suggested. "She's your childhood friend, right?"

Yomi looked at Kagari, who was immersed in the middle of a crowd. She had grown her hair out, long, curly, and blonde. She looked happy and content, sitting there, the center of attention. Her clothes were flashy and she looked comfortable and well off.

Yomi turned back to Arata and shook her head. "We weren't childhood friends," she said. "We just lived across the street from each other, that's all."

A flash of confusion passed over Arata's face. "But I thought..." she trailed off. "I heard...well, that girl told me, before she..."

There was a painful constricting in Yomi's chest and she clenched her teeth. Her heart hurt, so much, at the mere suggestion of her, that name, haunting.

_Kuroi Mato_

"Ah," said Arata, noticing Yomi's expression, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up that..."

"It's fine," Yomi said through gritted teeth, and forced a smile to her face. "Don't worry about me."

Arata frowned, opened her mouth to say more, but before she could say anything, Kagari wove her way into their conversation.

"Arata," she said. "And...Yomi." When she said Yomi's name, a brief, perplexed expression flew across her face, but unlike Arata it was too quick to catch and Yomi registered only Kagari blinking.

"Ah, Kagari," Arata said, surprised. She glanced between Yomi and Kagari. "I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. I'll talk to you later, Yomi!" With that, Arata left, as fast as a jackrabbit.

Kagari smiled. "How've you been?"

"Good," said Yomi.

Kagari's eyes flicked down to somewhere on Yomi's chest, as though looking for something, and another expression flashed across her face. It was one of confusion. "That scar..."

Yomi shrugged. The memory of it was so long ago. She could barely remember how she got it. "I don't know where it came from," she placed her fingers somewhat defensively over the pink, heart-shaped carving. "I just woke up one day, and it was there."

Kagari was staring at it a bit too much for Yomi's liking, and Yomi quickly decided to change the subject. "How is life going for you, Kagari?"

"Ah," said Kagari, distractedly. "Well. It's going well. I just bought a new apartment in Tokyo. Pretty big."

"Oh," said Yomi. She closed her eyes. There was something about Kagari she couldn't put her finger on. Something...something....and that girl, Kuroi Mato...

"How about you?" Kagari asked.

"Do you remember Kuroi Mato?" Yomi asked, before she could stop herself.

Kagari's eyes went wide. "Huh? Uh...well, she just went missing one day...didn't she? After...all that..."

"All what?"

Kagari looked at Yomi strangely. "You don't remember? You were acting really strangely for the past few days. You cut your hair in class. I thought you were crazy. You always clung to me, too."

Yomi did not remember any of this. She stared at Kagari. "What? I never went...I never cut my hair in class. And why would I cling to you?"

Anger flashed across Kagari's eyes, hot irritation. "What? You really don't remember? After I got out of the hospital, you were always hanging around me. I got really tired of it. Really tired. So I asked you to let me go, but then you went crazy after that, and then Mato disappeared."

The words coming out of Kagari's mouth were so strange, Yomi had no idea how to parse them. She could not think of a single reason why she would go crazy, despite the growing heat in her chest. "I don't...remember." Yomi shook her head. "I don't remember that."

Kagari exhaled and stared up at the ceiling. She muttered something under her breath before turning back towards Yomi. "You should come to my apartment," she said.

"Huh?"

"I have something to show you."

xxx

Kagari's apartment was large, almost frighteningly so, especially considering how she lived in a big city like Tokyo. It was a far cry from the small two-room Yomi shared with Hikari, and she stared at Kagari's place, impressed. She knew Kagari came from money, though, so perhaps it wasn't too surprising. The apartment was modern and sleek, though at the same time, very impersonal. The couch, tables, chairs, all looked new and barely used. There was no impression of a living person in the place.

Kagari led Yomi over to the closet, though perhaps 'closet' wasn't the best term to use for such a wide open space, and she opened it. Stepping back, she let Yomi see what was inside.

Yomi stared. There it was, a picture, a twisted juvenile painting, of Kuroi Mato, the girl who went missing. She was crying blood from one eye, her expression one of angst, her hair fluttering in the purple, gloomy sky.

"What is this...?" Yomi whispered. Her heart was thudding, loud, a steady rhythm of one, two, three - beating, beating beating.

"It's the painting you were working on," said Kagari. "When you went crazy."

Just by looking at it, Yomi felt sick. It looked disturbed, as though the person drawing it had went insane, or at least, was on the road to. Her heart hurt. Why would she paint such a picture of Kuroi Mato? Yomi pressed her hands to her heart.

"Why do you have this?" Yomi's voice was flat.

Kagari shrugged. "The art club didn't want it in their room. I don't blame them. So I took it back home."

"That was a long time ago," said Yomi, quietly. "Middle school was a long time ago. Why do you have it in your apartment?"

Kagari looked down at the ground, and said nothing. Yomi sucked in deep breaths and pressed cold fingers to her forehead. Her heart was beating, quickly - as though it was trying to break free out of some kind of prison. But the bars were too tight by now, so all Yomi felt was nameless, formless pain. Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes and, forgetting where she was, she sank down to her knees.

"It hurts," she whispered.

_Kuroi Mato_

What was it about Kuroi Mato? Why was Yomi crying? She hadn't cried, ever - Yomi was not the kind of person who cried. But now she was. What was it about the painting that made her so? Why? Why couldn't she remember anything?

"Yomi," Kagari whispered, and Yomi felt Kagari kneeling somewhat cautiously next to her. "Are you okay?"

What a stupid question. Clearly not.

"Yes," Yomi forced out instead.

"Want to stay over?" Kagari offered, hesitant. "You can't really go home like this."

Yomi squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'll take care of you," Kagari said. Yomi looked at her then, and Kagari's eyes were closed. She was breathing hard, her own hand pressed against her heart, as though she was trying to remember something, but couldn't. "It's...no problem..."

Kagari was lost too, Yomi realized. Perhaps that same mysterious malady ran in her as well. Perhaps that was why she kept the painting. Perhaps that was why she invited Yomi to her apartment in the first place. Perhaps she too had some kind of memory loss.

Yomi kissed her then, and it tasted like the salt of tears. When she did, Kagari shuddered with pain, and her lips fell on the scar on Yomi's chest.

"I'm sorry," Kagari was sobbing. "It hurts..."

"Kagari," Yomi said, surprised and confused by Kagari's actions, her own actions, everything. The painting stared down at them. The blood flowing from Mato's eye was a deep, dark red.

"You're suffering," Kagari was saying. "I don't want you to suffer. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Yomi. It hurt. It was palpable, tangible pain. Flashes of memory swept her head. Something about a needle. Something about jealousy. Something about a text in her cell phone. Something about a childhood book whose title Yomi could not remember. A bird, perhaps, or rainbows.

Kagari's hands pressed Yomi down on the hard floor.

xxx

"You're back late," Hikari observed when Yomi walked into the apartment the next morning. "Or early...get lucky at that middle school reunion?" she chuckled.

Yomi stared at her. The morning daylight was harsh in the room. The smell of coffee stung her nose. Hikari sat at the small card table, newspaper open before her, TV on. The normal morning routine.

Yet everything felt indefinably _different._

"Something like that," Yomi murmured, and pressed a hand to her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, when BRS was still airing...I think it was after episode 6 or 7, when it was revealed that Yomi didn't remember Mato after Mato left. It makes me wonder what would have happened if Mato never came back and all the Other Selves disappeared, taking away everyone's ability to really bear pain and feel emotion. That then makes me think of the concept of philosophical zombies, which the title came from, and I started writing this story haha.


End file.
